


stairways lead to nothing

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous Age, Black Hermione Granger, DEANMUS ARE ONLY MENTIONED LUVVV, F/M, FUCK YOU YES HE IS, Fluff, Indian Harry Potter, M/M, Multi, Other, POV Hermione Granger, Romantic Fluff, Ron Weasley Has ADHD, Ron Weasley Is Smart, but theyre dayting, definitely during hogwarts years tho, i mean idk where in the timeline this is supposed to be set, its not mentioned or relevant but it IS factual, morons to lovers, new years gift baybeee, omg this might actually be the softest thing ive ever written, which is also barely there but represent baby!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22052827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Their hands would brush against eachother and their bodies would gravitate towards eachother and the only future they could see would rest in eachother’s heartbeats. Eachother, eachother, eachother; in this climate, it was all they really had to hold on to.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 11
Kudos: 139





	stairways lead to nothing

Hermione swore on everything that she didn’t expect it. Not really, even if there was a small nagging in her brain that danced with suspicions about it all. In all honesty, it still isn’t too surprising to her that they ended up this way- casual hand-holding and prized neck kisses and fingers smoothing out ragged hair and kind words cleaning out the ashy air that had confused the three of them for fire.

She thinks Ginny may have been the only one before her to come to the conclusion that the three of them would prove to be the final result of something bigger than Hogwarts, or the war. The youngest Weasley would still offer shy smiles to Harry, or tease her brother about Lavender, or call Hermione towards whatever eye candy she could spot- but, at the end of the day, she still saw something greater in them. It could be the long looks they would share, stars and worlds and universes colliding so prettily in the sparks that she was well aware were flying when their eyes would meet. Or, perhaps, it could be the way they simply walked through the halls; laughing at something stupid like children their ages should, because they’re _children_ \- even if half of the world seems to forget that. Their hands would brush against eachother and their bodies would gravitate towards eachother and the only future they could see would rest in eachother’s heartbeats. Eachother, eachother, eachother; in this climate, it was all they really had to hold on to. 

There were a million examples she could give, but she’ll settle for what she has now: with Ron’s wandering hands picking at the stray hairs on her robe, whilst Harry’s head rests on his shoulder as he watches absentmindedly at her studying. Occasionally, she would meet either of the boys’ eyes, and they would smile sweetly at her with bright eyes, or Ron would fidget too much and Harry’s own hand would run around his back or chest to remind him not to get too worked up. They wouldn’t speak much when it’s like this. Just small words, and the silence would be comfortable; something she could close her eyes to in peace, or lay down and fall asleep. 

“How much more?” Ron asks, not impatiently, just in curiosity, and his cheek meets the table as he turns his attention from the lint on Hermione’s clothing to the rough carvings in the wooden tables. Harry’s eyes close and he hums between the question and the answer, fingers gyrating on the sharpness of the boy’s spine. 

“Paragraph.” She replies with shortly, no elaboration needed in the rehearsed conversation- pen scribbling away in the quiet, and she thinks of something else to say, but they wouldn’t mind if there was nothing. “You wouldn’t have to wait as long if you did something out of the pile of homework waiting in your dorm.” And it was true, there was dust collecting on the books and sheets the both of them would throw around the place- and she was sure that sharing a space with Seamus wasn’t much help. Harry laughs, and Ron hides his face in his sleeve. “Maybe that’s why Snape hates you both so much.”

Ron snorts, “ _As if_ ”, but there’s a smile on his lips as he raises his head again and Hermione closes her book. “Bastard’s hated me from the beginning, starting to think he’d prefer it if I just wasn’t born.” And Harry nods in silent agreement, Hermione turns to them. 

Their eyes light up some more as they watch her look at them, and something bubbles up in her stomach at the attention, before she reaches forward to push unbrushed hair out of Harry’s eyes and Ron’s arm pulls her in closer by the middle, but she stands up moments later anyway. Grabbing her books, Harry and Ron push at eachother to leave the room first; even though the door is big enough for them both to fit through, but it’s late and she feels too warm inside to shout after them for the ruckus. In the end, it’s Harry who wins, tripping Ron over by kicking at his legs playfully, and he seems happy enough that she can’t even imagine that he’s gone through what he has these past years- no matter if she’s seen some of it for herself. Some flame of confidence lights up inside of her chest, and she fixes her tie.

“We’re awfully close, aren’t we?” she wonders aloud, and they stop to turn and look at her questioningly- as if asking about something so obvious was odd for them all. Ron kicks his feet.

“I guess?” he asks, and she looks at him. “Seamus and Dean are just as close though, if you watch for it.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“Seamus and Dean are dating, you prat.” Hermione laughs at the exchange, especially when Ron spins around in surprise- wide eyes and dropped jaw.

“Since when?” he replies, loud and Hermione laughs more to match the volume. Some students frown at them, but they don’t pay much mind to it considering the fact everyone is in their business constantly anyways. Harry’s eyebrows raise suddenly, and he peers from the other side of Ron’s tall frame to meet her gaze, as if she just said something revolutionary- which maybe she has. 

The words aren’t spoken aloud, yet the question is still _so_ clear. It was painful to her just how clear it was in fact, and her laughter catches in her throat. He gets it, she notes, he gets it just like she does and now Ron is the only one out of the loop- but, even then, he isn’t really because this is _Ron_. The boy who everyone underestimates, and she ponders wondrously if he has it all figured out or not, if there’s a chance he had come to the conclusion she had before herself. 

She nods to him, and he blinks owlishly at her for a second or two, as Ron scoffs in the background. He pokes at the boy’s shoulder in advance to looping his arms around his neck and looking down at him. Hermione realises in this moment that he really _had_ worked it all out, he had the answers to everything she had been wondering, he had known for a longer time than them all and yet he had kept it to himself but she could never find it in herself to be annoyed about it- because, right now, if his mischievous smirk was anything to go by, this was exactly what he had wanted. For them both to take their time, as there was no other way this could go; as, in the end, there was no need for a rush and it would all fall into place. 

“You’re ridiculous.” She whispers, reaching forward. “Utterly ridiculous.” And the grin on her face broadens so much it hurts, as she clings onto Ron’s worn-out robe in the middle of the hallway. 

“Because I’m braincell extraordinaire?” He speaks proudly, as if he had all answers, and Hermione’s hair falls in her eye as she hugs her face to his back but she doesn’t care. 

“Yeah?” Harry grins, fingers snaking across Ron’s waist to meet Hermione’s hand- to which he interlaces his own with, and she feels her face ache a little more. The boy between them both laughs in reply, leaning back against her slightly, beginning to rock them all around in a circle. “Is that what you are?” Ron nods.

“Yeah.” 


End file.
